


Contingency

by unwinding_fantasy



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Game(s), Romance, Stargazing, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwinding_fantasy/pseuds/unwinding_fantasy
Summary: Noct and Ignis and the Duscaen sky in June.





	Contingency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Written for the FFXV small secret santa 2k17. The prompt from the lovely theprinceschamberlain: Ignis, Noctis and stargazing. How could you go wrong with that?

Lightning licks across the dismal sky. Noct punctuates the following boom of thunder by dropping his duffel bag and flopping back onto the couch with a groan. “Seriously?” he grouses to the empty room. So much for their camping trip. Noct isn’t sure he can handle another night of languid make out sessions on the couch while some superhero movie from last year flickers in the background. Like, not that there’s anything bad about that but even a Stars-blessed Lucian prince imbued with the power of the Astrals can only handle so much teasing in the name of “doing things properly".

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Noct heaves a long-suffering sigh. Ignis is all about the courtship and the romance, a relic from his days as a future count who would one day have to make a suitable marriage, which is endearing and all but it’s kinda irrelevant considering Noct’s not in any danger of getting knocked up out of wedlock. Noct, aware that first times are rarely stellar, just wants to get it over with, to push past the awkwardness of the initial fitting-big-things-into-small-places schtick. That way, they can get to the good sex faster.

Overcoming inevitable embarrassment isn’t all there is to it though. The main issue is Noct’s so hyped on hormones he’s bound to explode, like, any day now and he really doesn’t wanna be the first heir of Lucis to die of sexual frustration. That would be even worse than the soul-destroying levels of awkward he’d endured to obtain condoms from his Shield for what’s turned out to be nothing.

When Ignis buzzes himself up, looking less wind-harried and more criminally good in his calf-length coat with the collar turned up against the elements, Noct’s spirits are only marginally cheered. Ignis rakes his hand through his perfect hair (a million gil says he fussed over it in the carpark downstairs) and toes off his shoes, saying, “I’m sorry, Noct. The weather forecast didn’t predict storms.”

A particularly ear-splitting thunderbolt cracks the sky. Noct’s eye twitches. “How the hell’d they miss _this?”_

“It is rather more volatile than usual,” Ignis muses, calculating frown on his face. He blinks himself out of it, crosses the room to gaze down at Noct. The way his expression softens makes Noct’s heartbeat stutter. “Nonetheless, I’ll not leave you here to another weekend of gaming. Any more Assassin’s Creed and your brain may turn to one of those mushy desserts you so adore. Come, let’s away.” Warmth seeps through Ignis’ gloves and into Noct’s skin when he wraps fingers around Noct’s wrist, gently tugging him upwards. Something sparks down Noct’s spine and he suppresses the urge to grin because, _Of course Specs has a backup plan._

“AssCreed’s all about history. You should be grateful I’m playing educational games.”

Ignis hums noncommittally but the corners of his eyes crinkle and Noct knows behind the collar, he’s smiling. He helps Noct into his jacket (and does he have to smooth down the lapels _so. Damn. Slowly?_ ) then they’re bundling into the car, the downpour pitter-pattering around them. Noct unlocks Ignis’ phone and fiddles around until he finds some ridiculous pop of the _doof doof_ variety filed under “bottled sunshine chocoboy dance party”, which is what somebody has renamed Prompto’s playlist, the one Ignis let them create after a 3AM callout to Insomnia’s premier gay club resulting in two very tequila-riddled teenagers babbling in the backseat. _The shit he puts up with for me,_ Noct thinks fondly.

Noct stares out the window, a little awestruck by the clamorous storm outside, the tongues of lightning that dart overhead. With each turn though, his excitement wanes until, “The Citadel?” he complains as they roll through the gates. _Throw a Shiva-blessed bucket of water over me, why don’t you?_   He folds his arms and tries not to pout. “We got a dinner date with my dad or something?”

“I had something a little more stimulating in mind.”

The tips of Noct’s ears go warm. _He totally did that on purpose._ The outside world’s suddenly extremely interesting and Noct scowls at the window but of course he catches the reflection of a smirking Ignis, who parks the car with all the urgency of a lazy Sunday morning. _He’s totally infuriating,_ Noct snorts, mouth quirking in the beginnings of a smile.

Ignis leads him through the hive-like corridors until they end up outside a familiar door. Noct suppresses an exasperated sigh. “Okay, now I’m seriously worried for your sanity. Like, I haven’t been in my old room for months, maybe years. Did I forget something or…” he tapers off as Ignis twists the doorknob and pushes the polished oak aside. The lights have been left on so Noct casts his gaze around as he steps within, expecting something extravagant and complicated and, well, _Ignis._ All he can discern is a heap of pillows on the bed covered by a sleek black duvet that has Maximum Comfort written all over it, and of course Noct’s brain immediately takes a dive towards the dirty. “Um…” he begins, but he’s saved from having to articulate anything by Ignis, who ushers him onto the bed and instructs him to lie down, and by this point Noct’s heart’s rabbiting so hard he reckons it’s louder than the thunder. Was this it? Were they finally, _finally_ gonna…

The flick of a light switch. The room’s plunged into darkness. Not absolute darkness though, and Noct’s gaze is drawn upwards, breath catching as he absorbs the sight.

On the ceiling, ringed in phosphorescence, a declaration of affection in three small words. Well, two if we’re talking specifics. Two words interjected by a heart.

The bed dips. Minutely, Noctis shifts towards the youth lying beside him. He wants to say something teasing like, _Aren’t you a little old for glow-in-the-dark stickers?_ but it’s impossible with Ignis looking so damn exotic tinged in half-light, eyes gleaming like some otherworldly, fae creature. Ignis’ teeth flash in a grin. He brushes away the hair that’s tumbled into Noct’s eyes and drops his voice to something Noct can only describe as a purr, “You said you wanted your first time to be under the stars.”

 _Astrals alive!_ Noct hides his face by nuzzling Ignis’ hand. “You’re an idiot. An actual, real live idiot.”

Ignis smiles because A) literally nobody else on Eos ever disparages his intelligence and B) that’s Noct speak for, _I love you too_. He tucks his arm beneath Noct’s head and begins playing with his hair. “What’s that saying? ‘Love makes fools of us all’?”

Noct goes, _“Ig-nis.”_ He’s aiming for exasperated but disguising the note of fondness in his voice proves impossible. He’s definitely not grinning like a loon. Definitely not thinking about all the ways he can get his tongue in his advisor’s clever mouth and make out with him under glow-in-the-dark galaxies.

Ignis’ smile turns devious. “Is now a terrible time to tell you those constellations are an accurate representation of the Duscaen sky in June?”

Only half sure Ignis is joking, Noct shuts him up with a kiss, and he wonders if it’s weird that Ignis’ muffled grunt of surprise makes his skin tingle.


End file.
